The Perfect Con
by TheCarnivalAct
Summary: Three con men place a simple bet: whoever can get fifty thousand dollars out of Carlos Garcia, first, wins. What they don't realize, is this bet will change the way they play the game, forever. Multi Chapter/AU/Please R&R
1. Ch 1: The Conmen in Vegas

Chapter One: The Conmen in Vegas

 _Tuesday Night_

"I want to work again."

Five words. That's what started it, really. Those five, simple words had barely left his lips before two hushed gasps came from beside him. Green eyes flicking to his right side, he saw the two men sitting there, gazing at him with wide, startled eyes. The blonde who had spoken rolled his own eyes and pursed his lips, reaching for the glass on the bar-top in front of him. The ice clicked against the rim of the crystalline glass, the sparkling dark liquid turning a shade of amber in the dim light.

"You're joking - right?" The question came from the man sitting nearest to him, eyebrows curled into a look of disbelief. Though they were sitting, the man was still slightly taller than the blonde. His chestnut brown hair was slicked back against his head, and his dark, pristine suit seemed out of place at the bar. He cleared his throat, fingers toying with his own glass, where the liquid was still filled to the brim. "Please tell me that you're joking, Kendall."

Kendall frowned at the man's condescending tone, pursing his lips as he pondered his response. "Of course I'm not joking, James. Why? Do you think I haven't got it in me anymore?"

The man, James, looked away, shaking his head with a knowing smile on his face. His left arm rested on the bar-top in front of them, fingers curled around his own glass, but he made no move to drink from it as he tapped his fingernails against it. When he didn't respond, Kendall spoke again, his voice scathing, "What?"

"Well, Kendall, the game has changed since you left. It's not as easy as it used to be."

It was the man on James's other side who replied, peering over James's shoulder. His dark brunette hair appeared even darker in the dim light. The three men were sat at the bar, perched in tall stools and facing the black bar-top where they each had an identical drink place in front of them. The bar, as Kendall had heard it, was called _The Jewel_ , with a massive decorative diamond logo plastered on the wall in front of them, where bottles of liquor were lined up for display.

Behind them, the bar connected to a massive ballroom, where glimmering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the floor below in twinkling, bright light. Amid the chandeliers, stunning neon lights hung from the ceiling above that labeled each section of the room, reading "SLOTS," "CRAPS," and "TABLES."

Directly across from the bar were the slot machines, which glittered and chimed as people crowded around them. The table games such as Craps, Baccarat, and Roulette were obstructed from view by the slot machines, but the signs above labeled their location. Corridors branching off from the ballroom lead to other attractions such as the buffet, the showroom, restrooms, and stairs to the upper floors.

This was the main floor of the Diamond Ring Casino-Resort - owned by none other than James Diamond, who was sat beside Kendall, still gazing at him with an incredulous look. His eyes flicked from Kendall to Logan, waiting for Kendall's response.

"Honestly, Logan," Kendall scoffed, "What do you think I am? Some kind of amateur? I _know_ our… _business_ isn't easy."

"Of course it isn't easy." James murmured, "But it's been over a year since you conned last, and the business has changed. The same old tricks won't work anymore."

And there it was, the admission of the secret business the three men were a part of - con-artistry. It was a tricky, dangerous business, and all three of them knew how quick witted and dedicated someone needed to be in order to swindle money from even the most daft and gullible targets. When Kendall didn't reply, James snorted and reached into his pocket, pulling his cell phone out and placing it on the bar-top.

He opened his photo library, flicking through the many pages of photos until he came to the one he was looking for, laughing to himself as he eyed the people in the photograph. He pushed the phone towards Kendall, "Look at that."

In the picture, James stood in a black tuxedo next to a short, red headed woman. She wore a long, white dress with a lace veil that framed her hair. She leaned against James, who had his arm around her waist. The two of them looked happy and for a moment, one would believe they were happily married. But Kendall knew the truth. "What are you implying?" He asked.

"A few years ago, I would never have had to marry to get what I want. I used to be able to… dine and dash, as I like to call it." James explained, "Now you can't get money from anyone unless you make them fall in love with you."

Kendall studied the picture closer, and realized that the two faces smiling at him were happy for very different reasons. The woman was smiling because she was in love, ready to spend the rest of her life with the man next to her. While the groom was smirking because he knew he'd be rich within a few months.

This was James' game. He would find the richest, most desperate for love people - and reel them in. He'd been conning people for years, gotten away with four spouses, and several million dollars. It wasn't very hard to guess how he'd done it. He was charming, had good looks, and knew how to sway anyone into marrying him. The woman in the photo was very wealthy heiress from a family empire who built their fortune off drilling oil, and controlling most of the country's oil supply. Just a few months before James got to her, she had inherited her family's entire fortune. Not long after, she got married and James walked away three months later with divorce papers and seventy percent of her net worth.

The same had happened with his other three unlucky spouses. Two socialites with more money than they knew how to spend, and a British superstar who lost his entire life savings to James' charm. The man had bought more wedding rings than most people ever will, and had a lawyer who could convince a judge that a mouse was a rabbit if he put his mind to it.

Kendall also knew along with James' redeeming qualities, he had a few weaknesses. He was far too confident, for one thing. He'd missed a chance with an actual princess from Austria by putting off the wedding too long - and several million dollars with her. Not that James would ever admit that he'd failed - he would just say that he wasn't interested in the fortune of royalty anyway. Leave the old money with the aristocrats, he'd say, so he could have the satisfaction of passing them up on the "world's riches" statistics when the census came around.

James was an impressive con man, he had to admit, but he definitely wasn't the best.

"You don't think I'll be able to do it, do you?" Kendall challenged him.

The taller man leaned back against his stool, eyes drifting towards the ballroom behind them, taking in the view of his casino. "This place is the product of _years_ of hard work, Kendall. Years of swindling rich suckers out of their money - which is _very_ difficult, mind you - and the business isn't for the faint of heart. Let's not forget why you quit in the first place. You know as well as the rest of us that the business changes rapidly, and it'll take a lot of work to catch up."

"Kendall, I'm trying to help you, not insult you." James pressed, taking his phone back and sliding it back into his pocket. "It's tough work. You initially took a break because you were intimidated by the competition - why do you want to come back now?"

Gaping in disbelief, Kendall narrowed his eyes, "What? I took a break because I wanted to focus on _hockey._ "

"Sure, sure." James brushed him off, finally bringing the glass to his lips to take a long drink. "Listen, Ken, I have more faith in you than most people would give me credit for, but you'll need to do some catching up. Besides, this town is only big enough for _one_ great… _entrepreneur_."

"Are you saying that _you're_ the greatest con-man in Vegas?" Kendall scoffed, arching one brow, "I find that hard to believe."

Logan cleared his throat and spoke up before James could rebuke, "I hate to agree with him, but he's right - about the business changing. People are getting smarter and more protective over their money. It's a hard game." Kendall rolled his eyes, but Logan continued, "Although, James is wrong. His method _is_ a bit amateur. And he's definitely not the best in this town."

"Excuse me?!" James exclaimed, his eyes wide and hurt, "Have you ever tried being married four times? It's tough work! It takes skill - and I certainly wouldn't call it amateur."

Logan snorted, "Marrying for money is the oldest trick in the book. It takes brains to trick people into giving you money without stealing their heart first."

And _that_ was Logan's game. Although the three of them were very intelligent, Logan was definitely the smartest of the trio. He would spend countless hours analyzing his clients, discovering everything about them, figuring out their weaknesses, how to exploit their money, and create a carefully thought out strategy that would usually end him up with millions of dollars in his pockets. Not only could Logan create genius cons, but he could personify any character he chose to be. In the years that Kendall and James had known him, he'd effectively portrayed a politician, doctor, record producer, tech mogul, billionaire investor - practically anything he wanted to be.

There was one particular con that had proved Logan to be formidable competition to both James and Kendall - the McFaulken family. Logan's target had originally been Tyler McFaulken, a popular senator who was always in the media for flaunting his money every chance he got. Before Logan got to him, McFaulken had three mansions and several vacation homes all over the country, a private jet, a yacht, and even starred in a reality show featuring him, his wife, and his five daughters.

It was when a massive news story came out about McFaulken's mother being ill that Logan really saw his chance. He approached McFaulken, armed with several references, three college degrees, a medical degree, a license to practice, hundreds of residency hours, and a charming smile. He was so convincing, McFaulken dropped the doctors who he'd trusted for years to put his mother in Logan's care. It wasn't a complete hoax, after all, Logan _did_ have a medical doctorate - he had his own interests and hobbies apart from conning. Becoming a doctor was his original career path, until he discovered the wonders of being a con-artist. Now that he lived this life, he could be a doctor _and_ make tons of money - more than other doctors, anyway.

Logan cared for McFaulken's mother for weeks, prolonging her death and charging the senator tenfold in medical expenses, until the old woman finally kicked the bucket. By the time of her funeral, the senator was broke and Logan was millions of dollars richer. Thanks to one of the best lawyers money could afford, the media never heard a squeak about Logan's con, and the senator had been silenced with a gag order against ever bringing attention to it.

Kendall had to admit he was impressed by Logan's success in the field - but that didn't mean he was the best.

"Oh, so you think that you, Logan Mitchell, are the best con-man in this city?" James replied, tilting his head to the side.

"If you're judging by house and bank size - then yes, I'm the best. And it's _Doctor_ Logan Mitchell." Logan shot back.

James crossed his arms, looking unconvinced. "Excuse me? I own a _casino_ , Logan. Just because I don't live in a mansion and have tons of spare change doesn't mean you're better. This casino is ranked as the _best_ in America, I'll have you know. It rakes in millions of dollars a year - and I have staff to pay."

Logan rolled his eyes, but downed his drink without a reply, looking unimpressed. Kendall was glancing from man to man, an amused look on his face as he watched their argument. Clearing his throat to grab their attention, he leaned back in his chair and began, "I think you're both impressive in the field, but definitely not the best."

"Then who is the best, Kendall?" James growled, narrowing his eyes.

"I am."

Logan and James both burst out in laughter, and Logan had to lean against the counter to steady himself as laughter wracked his body. "You're kidding, right?" Logan asked between laughs.

"Listen." Kendall leaned over the bar-top, looking so serious that the two men stifled their laughter. "I know I took a break from conning, but before I stopped I had more successful cons and more money than the two of you combined. If it weren't for me, you two wouldn't even be in this business. James, if I hadn't been your advisor seven years ago when you first moved to this city, you wouldn't have ever made a dime. Logan, if I hadn't invested in your studies, you wouldn't have all the fancy degrees and licenses that you do now."

The two men exchanged a glance, and James spoke before the darker brunette could, "Just because you helped us _years_ ago and you'd been in the business twice as long as us before you _quit_ doesn't mean you automatically have claim to the title. We've grown, Kendall. We have our own methods now."

"Are you kidding-"

Kendall never had the chance to finish his rebuke, because at that moment the bartender sauntered towards them. He had short blonde hair, a red shirt with the casino's logo on the front, and a dish rag slung over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes knowingly as he stood on the other side of the bar, where he placed his hands on the black marble and tapped his fingers.

"Yes, Max?" James asked, his voice tense with annoyance at being interrupted.

"Sorry to disturb your conversation, but I've got some news for you boys." The man, Max, replied, pursing his lips as he leaned against the bar. He reached for a bottle of gin under the counter and used it to fill all three of their drinks to the brim. "I heard there's a new one in town."

Kendall's eyes widened at Max's words. Exchanging a glance with James and Logan, Kendall raised his eyebrows in interest. "Who?"

"Carlos Garcia."

It was James to replied, a look of confusion drawn across his features. "Who?"

"You boys know of Platinum Edition Studios?" Max asked, stepping away from the bar to reach for a glass on the shelf behind him. The bottles of liquor chimed at the movement as Max took a glass, filling it with the same bottle of gin that he'd used for the other men.

"Uh, yeah." Logan responded, as if it were the most obvious question in the world. "They practically own every production company in the western US. It's hard to find a single film, show, or album without their logo on it."

"Well, Omar Garcia, the owner of the 'Studios died last week. His son, Carlos, just inherited the whole company - _everything_." Max explained, taking a drink from his glass and coughing before continuing, "He's just moved to Vegas to assume his dad's role as CEO, and he's here. Now."

The three men looked at each other in surprise. Carlos was now one of the richest men in the country. James's eyes were glittering with interest, and Logan looked as if the cogs in his brain were already working to create the perfect scheme. Kendall's brain was whirring as well, but not just about the thrill of the con. He had another idea. Leaning across the table towards Max, he asked, "Where is he now?

"Check your six."

The three of them turned in their seats to peer into the ballroom behind them. At first, all they could see were the sea of slot machines and people crowding around them, but a flash of light at the other end of the room caught Kendall's eye. As the ground sloped upward towards the massive front doors, he could see a man standing, flanked by two taller men he could only assume were bodyguards. He wore a red button-down shirt with a black overcoat, though he was too far away for Kendall to be able to tell if they were designer clothes. The man was facing a group of people who were holding cameras, flashing repeatedly as they took photos of the man.

" _That's_ him?" James asked, looking excited as he watched the man walk away from the cameras, who were held back by casino staff from following him. The man was followed by his bodyguards, and disappeared into the crowd of people who seemed not to notice his appearance.

"Yes." Max responded, causing the men to turn back around to face him. "From what I've heard, he's single, naive, and not the brightest bulb in the box. His father even hired advisors before his death to make sure his son didn't make any dumb mistakes when he inherited the company." With that, Max padded away towards a few people who had sat down at the end of the bar, waiting for him to make their drinks. It didn't take a genius to know that by "dumb mistakes," Max meant "be conned out of his money".

"Dibs." James blurted out before the other two could respond as soon as Max left.

"What?!" Logan protested, "You can't call _dibs_ on a grown man! He's free game, James."

"Uh, yes I can call dibs." James rolled his eyes.

Logan scoffed, "Why? Are you afraid we'll get him before you?"

"Absolutely not!"

"That's it." Kendall said, loud enough to be heard by his arguing friends.

"What?" James and Logan said at the same time, turning to look at the blonde with identical expressions of confusion.

"That's it," Kendall repeated, turning to face them with an excited glint in his eye, "Each of us thinks that we're the best in the city. This is our chance to prove ourselves."

"And what do you want us to do?" James narrowed his eyes, "You can't just walk up to someone we know nothing about and expect the con to go well."

"Are you scared?" Kendall teased, feeling his heart race at the aspect of conning again. It had been some time since he'd been in the field, and he felt it calling to him. This was what he'd been waiting for - something to add thrill to his life again. "We could make it a competition - to see who can get to him first."

"A competition?" Logan echoed, looking mildly interested. He exchanged a glance with James, whose eyes had widened with anticipation. "What kind of competition?"

Kendall placed both hands on the bar-top with a bit more force than he intended, earning a weird glance from the people at the far end. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "We each think we're the best. James, you said it yourself, this town is only big enough for one great con artist. Maybe you're right."

"What are you saying?" James queried, his brows furrowed.

"This competition will decide who is the best. Whoever can con Carlos Garcia first will earn the title - and the city." When he saw his friends' confused looks, Kendall went on, "Whoever wins gets to stay in the city. The losers have to leave and find a new place to go."

"What?!" James and Logan asked in unison, their shocked expressions both trained on Kendall, looking at him as if he'd just grown wings. "Are you insane? We _live_ here!"

"Are you scared?" Kendall repeated, "Are you afraid you'll lose?"

"Of course not!" James protested as Logan exclaimed, "No way!"

Kendall shook his head, laughing in spite of his excitement. "Well, this competition has to be a _competition_. We need to set a deadline."

"He leaves for London Saturday morning."

The three men looked up to see that Max had come back, and was facing the three of them with a smug look on his face. He was holding his empty glass in his hand, rubbing it dry with the dish rag he'd previously had over his shoulder. "He's going to be travelling to London for his father's funeral on Saturday. I have no idea when he'll be back."

" _Saturday_?" James protested, "That's in four days!"

Max shrugged, but didn't say anything in response.

"That's it then." Kendall muttered, "Four days to win."

Logan and James looked at him in disbelief. They were silent for a few moments before Logan finally broke the silence, "Kendall, even _I_ know that four days is a an absurd amount of time for a con."

"I guess you'll have to try harder then. I thought you were the best Logan." Kendall shot back, his lips pulled back into a smirk.

"You know what? Fine." Logan conceded, frowning and turning away from the other two.

"Really?" Kendall seemed surprised to have won that easily, but turned to James, who still looked surprised. "What about you? Do you agree on four days?"

James sighed, running his hands through his brunette hair. He looked over his shoulder to gaze at the crowd of people, but Carlos had disappeared. James knew that there was nothing he could do to change Kendall's mind, and he had to admit, he liked the idea of a challenge. Anyway, he could do this in four days. Of course he could. He was the _best_ con artist in Vegas - no, the whole damn country. Of course he could do it. "Easy." James conceded, meeting Kendall's eyes with a look of sheer determination.

"Good."

"How much?" Logan asked, looking up from his drink with a scowl.

"What?"

"How much do we need to get from him by Saturday to win?"

Kendall looked thoughtful, leaning back into his chair and pursing his lips. He watched as James and Logan exchanged an annoyed glance as they waited for him to decide, and dramatically sighed before responding, "Fifty thousand."

"Is that all?" James asked sarcastically.

Ignoring him, Kendall glanced at each of them, a glint of determination in his green eyes as he waited for them to agree to the competition. "Four days to get fifty thousand dollars from Carlos Garcia. The winner gets to stay, the losers have to leave town."

"Fine." Logan murmured.

"Fine." James said as he took another sip from his drink, ice clinking against the glass.

That's how it all started. The decision to begin the competition that would change their lives - even if they didn't know it at the time. They had four days to perform the perfect con.


	2. Ch 2: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

Chapter Two: Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

 _Tuesday Night_

James checked his watch. 9:57pm. Perfect. He cleared his throat.

"That's our cue to leave," Kendall stood from seat, pushing the empty stool under the bar as he slung his coat over his shoulder. "Come on, Logan. Let Mr. Romance have his time."

"Sure you don't want to stay and sabotage my chances?" James taunted as Logan stood from the bar seat. "It's kind of unfair, giving me the advantage."

Kendall put his hands on the back of James's chair, tilting it slightly backwards. James clutched the bar, trying to steady himself as Kendall laughed. "We need to start doing _actual_ con-work. You know - research, planning. Just try not to get into his pants _too_ quickly."

"I think I know what I'm doing." James snapped over his shoulder as the other two grabbed their drinks and walked away. A plan was already beginning to form in James's mind, and he took a long drink from his class.

" _Actual con-work,_ " James mimicked Kendall's words, rolling his eyes. He didn't need to spend time researching and white-boarding his cons. They always worked better on the spot, crafted from his mere charm and effortless skill. Good thing too. He couldn't begin to imagine the train-wreck it would be of having the other two try to do their own reconnaissance. No, this was right up his alley. The plan was to find Carlos, pose as a complete stranger, and get him to talk. It wasn't hard, really - it just took patience and, of course, charm.

He'd done this countless times. Why should this be any different?

"Why are they here anyway?" Max queried, interrupting his thoughts, "I always thought of you as a lone wolf. Not the type of bring others into your tricks."

James gave him a long look before responding, "We made a bet. They think they're better at the job than I am. Weren't you listening?"

"I'm paid to mix drinks, not eavesdrop. You'd have to increase my salary for me to care about the lives of sad rich fools. Speaking of, you've swindled more fools than I can count." Max chuckled, "It's always a good laugh to see their faces after they realize they've been duped. So, what's the bet?"

"Whoever can get fifty thousand dollars out of him first, wins."

"Wins what?"

"The city."

"Ah." Max nodded, as if James had just said something completely logical. "So you're willing to give up your city, this casino, and all you've worked for - over a bet?"

James cracked a smile. "And my pride."

Max laughed to himself, taking James's empty glass and wiping it down with a dish rag. His eyes flicked over James's shoulder, and his eyebrows wiggled mischievously.

"Don't think about it too much now," Max whispered, "Your target just walked in."

James spun around in his chair, almost toppling over. Catching his balance, he looked over in time to see Carlos Garcia walk from the lobby into the hall. He was alone - which was surprising. His bodyguards and the paparazzi had vanished, but he still had a certain kind of apparatus about him. He weaved around the slot machines, stopping to speak to people here and there with a generic smile and small talk, eventually making his way to the bar. He sat at the end opposite James, barely noticing the people around him. Max winked at James before padding over to Carlos and asking what he wanted to drink.

James watched him for a while, making note of how lonely and sad he looked - exactly what he would expect from someone who just lost their father, especially when they were so obviously close. Carlos ordered a drink, which James was too far away to hear the name of, and downed it quickly. His gaze kept traveling across the room, eyeing the gambling tables with interest. James knew the appeal to it, but his gamble wasn't confined to a table.

After a few moments, Carlos finally gave in and stepped away from the bar, heading into the crowd. James pursed his lips, going over his lines in his head a few more times, before following him. He weaved through a crowd of half drunk, half desperate people, all betting their life savings, before he spotted the boy at a Craps table. Sauntering towards him, James sidestepped a woman in a leather jacket and chose a spot at the table beside a red faced man who looked as if he was losing badly.

Carlos was taking chips from the boxman and scanning the table with narrowed eyes. James watched carefully as he placed a few chips on several numbers, looking nervous. James edged around the table toward him, earning a frustrated grunt from the angry man, until he stood directly beside Carlos, watching as he removed a chip from one of his bets.

"First time gambling?" James asked with a tremor of humor in his voice.

Carlos looked up at him, a worried look in his eyes, "Can you tell?"

James laughed, taking his own chips from the boxman and stacking them on the edge of the table. "You might as well have a sign. Look, it's all about confidence," He explained as he placed a bet in the same box as Carlos', except his own bet was much higher, "If you doubt yourself, you're more likely to lose."

Carlos narrowed his eyes but said nothing as the woman in leather threw the dice. The two dice hit the side of the table and landed right in front of James. With a knowing smile he glanced over at Carlos, who was looking at the dice with wide eyes. He'd won.

"See?" James grabbed the tokens and placed them between the two of them. He handed Carlos' tokens back and leaned against the table, watching as the other people placed their bets. "You can't be scared of losing."

"What makes you so sure that you'll win?" Carlos asked suspiciously. "That was just blind luck."

"Look," James nodded towards the red-faced man, who was betting high on his side of the table. "He's furious. I'd bet all my tokens that he's lost big today. That makes him more likely to bid recklessly." Switching his gaze over to the woman in leather he added, "She's losing her confidence. Probably isn't used to gambling much. She won her first few rounds, but has started losing as she's bet higher. She thinks if she bets smaller, her chances of winning will be higher - but she's wrong. Craps is a game of chance. Luck - as you put it."

"There's no such thing as real luck." Carlos murmured, avoiding his gaze.

"Is there?" James took his stack of tokens and placed them on the table. He heard Carlos hold his breath as a man to their right threw the dice. They hit the wall and landed on the other side. James had to squint to read them, but he knew by Carlos' gasp that'd he'd won again. Taking his tokens back, he turned away from the table and looked directly at Carlos. "I think there is such a thing as luck."

Carlos narrowed his eyes playfully, "If you're so lucky, why don't you keep playing?"

James stepped away, shuffling the tokens in his hand, and Carlos followed. "Oh, but luck runs out. It exists, but not for long."

Carlos looked confused for a minute, but glanced back at the table, where the man with the red face was shouting. "I guess some are luckier than others."

James laughed and walked over to a nearby table. He didn't care to play, but instead leaning his back against the edge. Carlos followed him, facing James and shuffling his own tokens. "So, what are you doing here if you don't gamble?" James asked nonchalantly.

"My dad." Carlos muttered, breaking eye contact to look at his shoes, which he scuffled against the red carpeted floor. "He… died."

"I'm sorry to hear that." James answered sympathetically, "Hell of a place to be, though."

"Yeah. He loved it here." Carlos looked around the casino, his eyes unfocused, as if trying to imagine his father here now. "Not gambling so much, but the life of the city. He loved the neverending shows, the fun, the thrill. Not to mention the scenery." Shaking his head, he looked back at James, changing the subject, "What about you?"

"I like the thrill of it." James answered, "I like to test my luck."

"Do you?" Carlos asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"I do." James smirked, "Where are you from?"

"Minnesota. Well, that's where I _used_ to be from." Carlos began, "Now that dad's gone I've got to step up and run his business."

"Business?"

"You don't know? My dad was the CEO of Platinum Edition Studios." Carlos explained.

"Really? No kidding." James acted surprised, even dropping a few tokens to show his shock. He'd already rehearsed this in his mind in case Carlos brought up who he really was. James wouldn't have put it past him not to mention it at all, but he wanted to be safe.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you haven't heard about it." Carlos looked away bitterly, "Everyone I've spoken to has been pestering me about it. What do I plan to change, who or what I'll produce next. It gets a bit old."

James nodded, and Carlos continued, "I'm going to have to relocate here. This iss where most of dad's work was done. He traveled here almost every week for business. I kinda wish I'd had more time to learn from him before he passed on the company to me. It's exciting, though. I've always been interested in the industry, and Dad would always keep me updated on what the company was doing. He even took me on a few jobs with him - so I'm not completely in the dark."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." James replied, putting his hand on Carlos'. "It's a tough business, but you seem tough as well."

Carlos seemed to relax at that, and didn't move his hand away. He sighed and glanced around before asking, "Where are you from?"

"Vegas. In fact, I own this casino."

"No kidding?" Carlos asked, his eyes disbelieving. "Then why is the owner of the _Diamond Ring_ chatting me up?"

"I like to make friends." James answered, tilting his head to the side. "It can get a bit lonely in Vegas."

"You'll have to visit me a lot, then." Carlos responded playfully.

James laughed and stepped away from the table, gathering his tokens in his hands. "Let's grab a drink." He offered, gesturing with his hand for Carlos to follow him across the ballroom.

It was close to two in the morning when their conversation came to an end. They had spent nearly four hours sitting at an empty table in the dining area, watching as gamblers came and went and ordering drinks until James was sure he'd need to hail a cab to get home.

Carlos was an open book, which was a fact that James learned quickly. It didn't take long for Carlos to launch into his life story, detailing his childhood in Minnesota, his relationship with his father, and his fears with inheriting the business. In just a few hours, James felt as though he had known the boy for his entire life.

It was strange, really. Usually on these "dates" he would quickly grow bored of listening to the same convoluted story from the same rich fools. However, Carlos was… different. James wouldn't say that he was particularly interesting, but his story was much more entertaining than hearing about the mundane lives of the top one percent for the umpteenth time. Although, like every rich fool, Carlos would eventually be shaped into the same mold as every other corporate figurehead. For now, he was mildly refreshing.

It wasn't until James found his eyes starting to drift from Carlos's eyes to the warm skin on his neck that he decided he needed to stop drinking for the night. He'd learned from past experience that sex on the first night of the con wasn't exactly professional.

"It's been great getting to know you." James spoke, noticing with satisfaction that Carlos's cheeks flushed slightly at the words. "We should do this again."

"I'd like that." Carlos replied. James stood from his chair on the opposite side of the table, extending his hand to help the other boy stand. It was clear from Carlos's lack of balance that they both might have had too much to drink.

James let Carlos lean on him as that padded from the dining hall to the main ballroom. It wasn't as crowded as it had been earlier, but there were still a few stragglers here and there. James caught Max's eye at the bar across the room, and raised his hand into a wave. He rolled his eyes as Max raised a fist into the air, mouthing the word "score." As much as he wanted to - and boy did he _want_ to - he wasn't planning on rolling around under the covers with Carlos just yet. He was a _professional_ , after all. Maybe after the third date. Or second.

* * *

 _Early Wednesday Morning_

James sighed as he fell back onto his bed, the sheets billowing around his body. He had hailed a cab after all, after making sure that Carlos got a ride home with his chauffeur first.

He remembered walking Carlos out to the front of the Casino, where a black car was waiting for him. He had opened the rear door for the shorter man, not missing the surprise in Carlos's eyes at the act. Carlos put his hand on top of the door, but paused for a minute before climbing into the car.

"When can I see you again?" He asked, looking up at James with wide eyes.

James tilted his head to the side, pondering the question. "How about tomorrow? Lunch? My treat."

Carlos shook his head, "I can't let you do that."

"Too bad, I already offered."

The shorter boy cracked a smile before sliding into the back seat of the car. His let the door hang open for a minute, looking up at James as he spoke. "I'll call you in the morning."

"You don't even have my number." Carlos protested, a confused look on his face.

"I'll find it." James replied, "It's worth the trouble."

Carlos laughed and shook his head as he closed the door. James watched as the driver pulled away from the pavement and drove away. Moments later, he was climbing into a cab with a rather grumpy looking man in the driver's seat.

Now he was alone in his condominium, staring up at the white ceiling that was dimly illuminated by the city lights that filtered through ceiling-high windows that covered one wall of his bedroom.

Sleep weighed heavy on his eyelids, but he reached into his pocket for his phone, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Dialing the number, he brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.

"I didn't expect you to call until at least dawn, James. What, he didn't want to hop into bed with you?"

The brunette rolled his eyes at Kendall answered the phone. "Do you want to hear the updates or not?"

"Hold on." Kendall replied and James waited as he heard muffled voices on the other line, knowing Kendall must have covered the microphone with his hand. A moment later, the voices cleared. "All right, Logan's here."

"I didn't think old Logie stayed up past midnight anymore." James taunted.

"Shut up, James." Logan groaned, "Just tell us what you've got."

"Why not just forfeit now?" James asked, a challenge in his voice, "You both know I'm going to win. I wouldn't judge you for backing out."

A snort came from the other end of the line, and Kendall was the one to reply, "In your dreams, Diamond. While you were getting drunk and chatting up your new boy toy, Logan and I found tons of information on him. You should be scared, pretty boy."

"Should I?" James asked, tilting his head to the side even though he knew the others couldn't see him. "Because I'm going to marry him by Saturday."

There was silence for a moment, and then both men on the other line burst out laughing. "Laugh all you want." James snapped, " _I'll_ be the one laughing at my reception."

"Do you really think you can marry him by Saturday?" Logan asked, a snicker in his voice. "Even James Diamond isn't that good."

"Just worry about your own cons. He's already agreed to meet me for lunch tomorrow."

"Ohhh, _lunch_. I'm real scared now." Kendall feigned fear, his voice shaking dramatically. "Night, James. Don't worry - we'll go easy on you."

James rolled his eyes and hung up, letting the phone fall from his hand and onto the bed beside him. He couldn't help but let a smile form on his lips, remembering the way that Carlos had opened up to him so easily. He remembered the look Carlos had given him when James had opened the door for him.

He'd done this so many times, he knew exactly how to make _anyone_ fall in love with him. And if he really knew anything, that look in Carlos's eyes told James that he had already started falling.


	3. Ch 3: American Hustle

Chapter Three: American Hustle

 _Wednesday_

Kendall Knight let out a long, drawn out sigh as he leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. His white, designer leather desk chair creaked, and he turned his green eyes to the window beside him, where the bright morning light filtered into his home. He was perched at his desk in his study, surrounded by stark white walls with gold trim. As he gazed out the window, he made a mental note to tell the groundskeeper that the rose bushes need trimming.

He turned his gaze back to his desk, to his desktop computer that sat before him. On the screen was a long, lengthy article about the life of Omar Garcia. Kendall had spent the morning reading all about Carlos's late father, and the gears in his mind were spinning with ideas for the perfect con.

Omar Garcia, surprisingly, had served in the military long before he started up his own production company. Kendall learned that he had built his own empire, which was something that he didn't often see in his own… _clients_ , per se. It wasn't often that he, or any other con artists, found a rich man with a background of doing more than tying his own shoes.

Nevertheless, the article had detailed all about Omar Garcia's - _Commander_ Garcia's - tour in some country that Kendall had never even heard of. Apparently, when Carlos's father was in his early twenties, he enlisted. His career in the military was cut short a few years later when he suffered a spinal injury from an explosive. It turns out - the injury never healed. Not entirely, anyway. That's what had killed him.

Over years and years of strain on his spine, Omar Garcia had slowly made the damage worse and worse. It was about a year ago that he was paralyzed almost completely. He'd died not long after. A part of Kendall sympathized with Carlos, having lost both of his own parents. But he never really had a close relationship with either of them, so he could only imagine Carlos's pain at losing his father.

Kendall wondered if his plan was a bit… tasteless. Perhaps he was overstepping with what he had decided to do, but he had to admit, it was genius. He might even rival Logan with the pure level of brilliance.

Pushing back his chair, Kendall stepped away from his computer. With a chuckle, he realized he probably wouldn't be walking much for the next few days. Reaching for his coat, he headed for the door.

It was almost lunchtime.

* * *

James really was too pompous for his own good.

Kendall rolled his eyes as he looked up at the restaurant before him. It was several stories high, with a marble exterior and fancy greek engravings etched into the stone. Tendrils of carefully tended ivy hung from the balcony above the front door, and subtle classical music drifted from inside.

It seemed a bit over-the-top for a lunch date. Not that Kendall was intimidated or anything.

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?"

Kendall's attention snapped to the chauffeur standing at his side. He had to tilt his head back to look at him - a clean shaven middle aged man with bright eyes and a kind smile. When Kendall shook his head, the man gestured to the doors and stepped around the blonde before padding back to the drivers side of the car.

With a sigh to calm his nerves, Kendall reached his arms to his sides, where the handles of his wheelchair were stationed. He glanced down at his outfit - a dark green navy suit with twelve badges on the front and a tag with the name KNIGHT etched across it in large, white letters. He was surprised that the outfit still fit - it hadn't been used in years. He knew James would probably scoff at him for reusing an old costume, but he didn't care. His plan was perfect.

He rolled his chair towards the doors, blinking in surprise when they opened up for him. A footman looked down at him, a kind smile across his lips. "Come on in, sir." He said politely, and Kendall nodded with satisfaction.

As he entered the restaurant, Kendall couldn't help but admire the interior. The walls looked similar to the marble on the outside, and the glass windows rose from floor to ceiling on either side. A small fountain was set in the center of the restaurant, providing a calming sound of trickling water beneath the classical musical that played softly from the speakers overhead.

"Do you have a reservation?" The footman asked, stepping around Kendall to stand at the hosting station.

Kendall shook his head. "Not formally, no. But I expect to see a few friends here."

The footman nodded and reached for a menu bound in a glass frame before stepping away from the hosting station and gesturing for Kendall to follow him. He paused for a moment, looking awkward. "Er, do you need help reaching your table?"

Kendall smirked. "No, thanks. I can get around just fine on my own."

The footman nodded, laughing awkwardly, and lead Kendall down an aisle of tables adorned in white table cloths and bouquets of flowers perched in the center of each one. As elegant as the restaurant was, Kendall gagged inwardly. Even though he relished in the fact that only the richest of the rich could attend this type of restaurant, he still thought it was far too pretentious.

They rounded the corner and approached a setup of tables that circled the central fountain. Kendall immediately lit up when he recognized a certain duo already sitting at one of the tables. He halted, clearing his throat so the footman would hear him.

"Do you see your friends?" The footman asked as he set the menu down at a table near the fountain. Kendall nodded to him and wheeled his chair at the empty spot next to a table that was just barely in earshot of Carlos and James, but perfectly in sight. The footman nodded to him and padded away, leaving Kendall alone. With a sigh, he removed his navy-issued uniform hat from his head, and placed it down on the table cloth. Now, all he had to do, was wait.

He could see the two men just out of the corner of his eye, but he dared not to look at them. He always found this part to be the hardest - the patience. He never wanted to be the first one to make the move. He didn't want a single air of doubt in the minds of the people he planned to con. If he made the first move, they might suspect his intentions. If _they_ made the first move… then it was their own fault anyway.

As Kendall arranged the silverware on his table, he began to eavesdrop on Carlos and James's conversation.

"Wait, wait, wait," James was saying. Kendall could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You're saying that you've _never_ been to Hawaii? Not even as a kid?"

Carlos laughed, awkward but bashful. "No, never. I always planned to go with my Dad, but when he got sick… well, we had to make other plans. I do want to visit one day, though."

"You have to. It's totally worth a trip. In fact, I own a beach house in Maui, so I can hook you right up."

"Of _course_ you own a beach house, James."

James gasped in mock offense, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Carlos propped an elbow on the table and leaned forward. "You just seem like one of those rich boys who vacations in tropical getaways for nine months out of the year," he teased.

Even though Kendall couldn't see James's face, he knew that he was rolling his eyes.

"Ten months out of the year, actually."

That comment made Carlos snort, and Kendall rolled his eyes again. James really did know how to flirt his way to a boy's heart. _Anyone_ 's heart, Kendall thought bitterly. But he still didn't think that James would be able to pull off swindling Carlos into marriage within a matter of days. Carlos wasn't bright, but he certainly wasn't _insane._

While Kendall was lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the rest of their conversation. He stole a look in their direction when he read the sound of a chair scooting across the tile. James had stood from his chair and was winking in Carlos's direction. "I'll be back." He assured him before turning away and heading in the direction of the kitchens.

 _Probably going to pay off the chef._ Kendall realized. He was too busy glaring in James's direction that he didn't notice Carlos looking at him with interest in his eyes. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Carlos walked in front of him and sat down on the other side of the table.

"Navy?" Carlos asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Kendall was a bit taken aback, but managed to stammer out, "Y-yes."

"My dad was in the Navy. Back in the 90's." Carlos explained, a smile playing on his lips. "How long have you been in the military?"

Kendall sighed dramatically, breaking eye contact and looking down at the table cloth. "Two years. Well, I _was_ in the Navy. I was rotated back last month."

"You look like you have a story to tell."

"Don't ask."

"I've got time."

Kendall tilted his head, surprised at Carlos's genuinity. Before he could speak, Carlos stood up from his end of the table and gestured for Kendall to follow him. "Come sit with us, I'm sure my friend would like to hear it too."

The blonde didn't need to be asked twice. He backed away from his spot at the table, not missing the way Carlos's eyes widened at the sight of his wheelchair. He pretended not to notice and followed Carlos over to his table beside the fountain. James's seat was still empty, and Kendall took the empty space between them.

Carlos noticed Kendall eyeing James's seat and explained, "He said he'd be right back. I suspect he'd paying off the chef for some romantic dessert."

Well damn. Maybe Carlos _wasn't_ that dumb. He seemed to be reading James pretty well already. Well, except for the fact that he had no idea James was purely using him for his money. It was almost sad. Carlos seemed so happy to be spending time with James, Kendall could only imagine the heartbreak that would ensure when James finally ditched him.

"So, where were you stationed?" Carlos inquired, returning to his seat and folding his hands on the table.

"South Germany. Near Munich." Kendall replied.

"What happened?" Carlos asked, looking wary about asking the question. His eyes didn't stray from Kendall's face, and the blonde found that he had a new respect for Carlos. The man really did know how to humor people, and how to make sure they didn't feel uncomfortable around him.

Kendall shifted his body slightly, allowing the chair to audibly creak and adopting a sad expression, "I was injured in a training exercise. Shattered my hip and fractured my lower spine. The kind of injury that gets you shipped back immediately. Kind of a lame way to go out, if you ask me. I'd much rather of gone out in combat, rather than falling on my own ass."

Carlos gave him a sympathetic look, but before he could respond they both jumped at a loud gasp from a few feet away. Kendall turned his head and saw James glaring at him with undisguised fury. The blonde gave him a smug look, feeling a twinge of satisfaction as James quickly regained his composure and plastered a smile across his face.

James was holding a white plate in his hand, and when he approached the table Kendall realized it was a plate of tiramisu. Looking at it with amazement, Kendall noticed that the chef had sprinkled the cocoa on top in the perfect shape of a heart. Just the kind of cheesy romantic dessert that Carlos had predicted.

"That looks delicious." Carlos beamed, his eyes sparkling as he looked at James.

"Who is this?" James asked through gritted teeth as he returned to his seat, placing the plate on the table between him and Carlos. He flashed a look at Kendall that the blonde had grown familiar to over the years - a look of rage disguised as infinite politeness.

Carlos tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips for a moment. "You know what, I never asked his name."

"Kendall." The blonde stated. "Kendall Knight."

He stifled a yelp as James dug the heel of his shoe into Kendall's foot. He had to pretend he was paralyzed, after all.

"Nice to meet you, Kendall." Carlos smiled at him kindly, "This is James Diamond. I met him last night."

James looked like he was going to give Kendall a stinging retort, but before he could speak, Carlos and James's waitress returned with a bottle of wine. She filled their glasses, and nodded to Kendall, who smiled at her as she tipped the bottle, pouring the red liquid into the glass on his table. When the liquid almost lapped at the corners, she stopped and placed the bottle on the table top. "What can I get you to eat?" She asked nicely.

"Nothing, just the wine." Kendall replied. The waitress furrowed her brow but didn't protest before turning away, smiling at James and Carlos as she went.

"Don't you want anything to eat?" Carlos asked. He flashed a look at James, who shrugged, avoiding looking at Kendall for fear of betraying his emotions.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," Kendall explained, "The wine is about all I can afford."

"What do you mean?"

"Vet benefits don't really cover much, especially with the medical bills I've had to fork over." Kendall scoffed.

"Don't they pay for your medical expenses if you've been injured?" Carlos asked with a confused look.

"Not if you aren't injured on the field. Getting hurt during a training exercise is laughable let alone something they'd actually want to pay for."

Carlos exchanged a look with James, who was staring furiously at Kendall. The blonde knew that James was catching on to his plan, and he knew by the angry look in the brunette's eye that Kendall would be the challenge he hadn't expected.

"Well, we'll have to do something about that, then." Carlos declared, exchanging a sympathetic look with James.

James narrowed his eyes, scooting backwards in his chair and standing up. "Actually," his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Actually, I've got to get going. There's an event happening at the Casino that I need to attend to."

Carlos looked disappointed, and James placed his hand over his. "I'll call you later. Okay?"

"Aren't you going to pay?" Kendall asked with an edge to his voice.

"Oh, yes." James smirked at him, "Those of us who can actually _afford_ to eat here have our own tabs. See you later, babe."

As James walked away, Carlos gave Kendall an apologetic look. But the blonde was staring at Carlos with wide eyes, disbelief on his face. " _Babe_? Didn't you just meet him last night?"

"I know." Carlos looked away, a blush playing on his cheeks. "But I feel like we have a really strong connection, you know? He just gets me. It's like we've known each other for years. I think…. I think I really like him."

Kendall gave him a look of such raw disbelief that Carlos immediately followed up, "I still have to get to know him, you know? I can't rush into things. Oh, but he's so great."

"I'm sure he is." Kendall replied through tight lips. However, Carlos's words eased his mind. Carlos obviously wasn't looking to jump into a serious relationship right away. _Especially_ not get married. Kendall found himself smiling with satisfaction when he realized that, even though James thought he had Carlos wrapped around his finger, Carlos was actually much smarter than he let on.

Carlos took a sip of his wine and rolled his eyes. "Enough about me. I want to hear about you. But first, order something to eat."

"Really, I can't-"

"Please. It's my treat." Carlos assured him, "It's the least I can do."

Kendall smiled at him and reached for the menu. He was careful not to order something too expensive - he didn't want to come across as greedy. He wanted to get Carlos comfortable. He wanted to play the role of the pitiful wounded warrior for as long as he could. At least until Saturday.

Once the food had been brought, Carlos leaned across the table, propping his chin up with his hand. "So, tell me about Germany."

* * *

Two hours later, the two men found themselves standing outside of the restaurant, sheltered below a canopy that hid them from the harsh sun. Kendall was amazed at Carlos's kindness. The man had bought his dinner and listened to his tragic backstory that Kendall had spent all night coming up with. Carlos was sympathetic at all the right times, laughed at all the right moments, and was sincere with his interest in Kendall's life.

Even when they left the table, Carlos had offered to wheel Kendall out of the restaurant, but the blonde refused. He'd told Carlos that he was capable of getting around on his own, even if he couldn't walk. The other man had respected him, even told him that he admired Kendall's determination.

"Thanks again," Kendall said, looking up at Carlos with a pitiful smile on his face, "for lunch."

"Like I said, it's the least I can do. Dad always taught me to treat people with kindness - especially those who have given so much."

Kendall looked away, his voice thick with bitterness. "I haven't given much. I'd barely joined the Navy before I was stupidly injured."

"But you enlisted, and gave two years of your life in service." Carlos argued, his eyes serious. "I'm glad you're okay, though," he trailed off, looking away, "I'd give anything to have my father back."

Kendall opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when Carlos's eyes lit up suddenly.

"My father had a similar injury to yours." He explained, "It was untreated for years, but we spent a lot of time seeing specialists in spinal injuries. They said if he'd been treated earlier, they might have been able to save him. They even said they would probably be able to help him walk again. Maybe… they could do the same for you."

That was it. The moment Kendall had been waiting for. He already knew this story, after his hours and hours of research on Carlos Garcia and his father. He knew every specialist that the family had seen, and all the dead ends they'd met. Everything Kendall had done leading up to this moment had fallen perfectly into place. Now, the next few steps could seal the deal.

"I…" Kendall hesitated, allowing his voice to crack with emotion. "I can't."

Carlos looked confused, "Why not?"

Kendall looked away, refusing to meet Carlos's eyes. He had to execute this perfectly.

"I'm broke, Carlos." He muttered. "Every penny I owned I spent on doctors visits. I _know_ about the specialists. I know they can help me. But I don't have any money. They can't help me if I can't pay them."

Carlos stood in silence, furrowing his brow as he listened to Kendall. He blinked, and the blonde could see the ideas forming in his brain. The idea that Kendall himself had planted in Carlos's brain.

"Don't worry about it, Kendall." Carlos stated, determination hardening his gaze. "I'll take care of it. I'll pay for the specialists, the treatment, everything."

There it was. The confirmation. That was the moment Kendall knew he would win.


	4. Ch 4: This Means War

Chapter Four: This Means War

 _Wednesday Afternoon_

"Are you serious?" Logan gaped, his brows furrowed into a look of disbelief.

"I'm serious." James's voice was muffled from his end of the phone. Logan shook his head, letting out an incredulous sigh. He was pacing in the foyer of his estate, the heels of his loafers clicking against the tile.

Without waiting for Logan's response, James continued, an edge of annoyance in his voice. "I can't believe he had the nerve to sabotage my date. How he found the restaurant we were at in the first place beats me."

"He's always had his ways. Besides, your choice of lunch date locations aren't exactly original." Logan replied.

"Excuse me? La Fontaine Aux Perles is the _nicest_ lunch spot in Vegas. If I want to get married by Saturday I've got to go big from the get go." James scoffed.

"Listen, James, I gotta go. I have my own plans to execute."

"Fine. Don't get your hopes up, though." Logan could practically hear the wink in his voice. With a dramatic groan, he hung up the phone and tucked it into his blazer pocket.

James had called him immediately after he left his date with Carlos, fuming with anger that Kendall had showed up at his date. Logan wasn't surprised - he'd been the one to tell Kendall to sabotage the date in the first place.

After he and Kendall left James the night before, they had headed back to Logan's estate. That was where Logan hatched the idea. He and Kendall would work together to beat James. It wasn't _technically_ breaking the rules of their bet, to have a joint con. Logan smirked to himself as he remembered their agreement while sitting in his library around midnight.

" _Working together?" Kendall had asked, a suspicious look in his eyes as he faced Logan. The blonde was sitting in one of the leather chairs in Logan's library, a glass of sherry in one hand and a tablet in the other. His legs were crossed, and his foot tapped against the floor as he considered Logan's idea._

" _Think about it, Kendall." Logan had said, turning in his swivel chair behind his desk to meet Kendall's eyes. "We both know that, even though James's strategies are a bit… typical, he's a pretty significant threat to us both."_

 _Kendall rolled his eyes. "James is no threat to me."_

" _Really? You do know that tapping your feet is a sign of nervousness." Logan replied with a smirk._

" _Please don't psychoanalyze me." Kendall groaned, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. "But you might be right. I'm not scared of James, but he's pretty damn good. I still don't think he's good enough to beat me."_

" _I'm not scared either. But if we work together we have a better chance of getting him out of the race. Don't you remember all the times we teamed up together in the past? We never lost a single con."_

" _Yeah, when I was_ training _you. You're a big boy now, Logie." Kendall murmured._

" _Listen, if you don't want to work together, then fine." Logan cocked his head to the side, a ponderous look on his face. "But you need to get to work quickly. While we're sitting here arguing, James is getting familiar with our target. For all we know, they could be drunk in some room-"_

" _Okay." Kendall leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowed together. "What is the real reason you want to work together?"_

" _Because I want James gone. He's swindled too many people in this town, and it's starting to draw attention to our… craft. If we work together, we can take him out and make sure he leaves this town for good. Once he's out of the picture, we can split up and battle it out." Logan explained._

 _Kendall narrowed his eyes and gave Logan a long look. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded. "You really are a genius."_

They had spent the next few hours researching and planning their con. They had quickly learned everything there was to know about Carlos's life, his family, the way his father died, his father's service, and everything inbetween. That's when they hatched their master plan.

Kendall would pretend he had been injured in service. They already knew Carlos sympathized with wounded veterans, so it would be easy to earn his attention. Like Carlos's father, Kendall would be suffering from an injured spine and be unable to walk. It was a bit unethical to lie about something like that - but that's the business. At least, that's what they told themselves to feel better about it.

Logan's job would be a bit more complicated. He'd learned from their reconnaissance that during Carlos's father's journey with finding treatment for his condition, they had plowed through many, many doctors, specialists, studies, and treatment plans. Unfortunately, none of them worked. Well, it had been unfortunate for Carlos. For Logan, it was very, very, fortunate.

He was distracted from his thoughts when his phone began to ring, buzzing in the pocket of his blazer. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his phone and smiled when he recognized the name on the screen. Accepting the call, he lifted the phone to his ear and spoke, "Hey, Camille."

"Hello, Mr. Mitchell." His assistant's voice was kind and peppy - something he had particularly liked when he hired her. She was also one of the biggest reasons behind his successful cons. She was always prepared to carry out whatever task he asked, and she did it well. "I've finished setting up your villa in the Bluffs for the office. The staff has already been briefed and they're ready for your client whenever he's ready."

That was it. Last night, after James had called and Kendall left, Logan had called his assistant and asked her to completely renovate one of his many homes - namely his underused villa that he hadn't visited in months - and turn it into a doctor's office. That was his plan. He was going to be a doctor.

He'd played this role before. It was probably one of his favorite strategies, and he prided himself in the amount of skill it took to portray this role effectively. He did have a legitimate medical degree, and he had always had a particular interest in the medical field, after all.

The thing about being a doctor is that people usually trusted him without a second thought. It was almost pathetic, how willing people were to throw themselves at him and allow him to suck every last penny out of their pockets. He knew he should have felt guilty for taking advantage of people in one of the most vulnerable ways possible, but he couldn't bring himself to. The people he usually conned were pompous, filthy rich assholes who deserved to lose their money. That's what he told himself, anyway.

Hanging up with Camille, he grabbed his keys and headed for the front door. He had a lot of work to do before Carlos showed up.

* * *

"Mr. Garcia."

Carlos looked up from his place behind his desk, acknowledging the appearance of his assistant, Jackson, who entered his office. His assistant was a young, twenty-something boy with dirty blonde hair and a flirty smile. Since coming back to his office after lunch with James - and Kendall - he had been singing endless stacks of paperwork that had been neglected ever since his father's death. His hand cramped from writing so long, and he eagerly placed the pen down on his desk, nodding at his assistant.

"There is a client here to see you." Jackson informed him, looking down at the tablet in his hand and narrowing his eyes to read the name. "A Mrs. Camille Roberts."

"I wasn't aware of any appointments scheduled for this afternoon." Carlos replied in confusion, furrowing his brows as he tried to recall the schedule for the day. It seemed that there was never an end to paperwork, meetings, and calls.

"She didn't make one." Jackson responded, a flash of amusement in his eyes, "She's very… er, persuasive."

Letting out a sigh, Carlos sat back in his chair. "Let her in."

Jackson nodded and backed away from the door, murmuring to someone on the other side. A moment later, a young brunette woman entered through the door, flashing him a smile. She looked nice enough, and seemed too young to be an investor. Carlos narrowed his eyes as she sat in one of the chairs across from his desk.

"Welcome, Miss…?"

"Roberts. Camille Roberts." She informed him. Carlos nodded, rubbing the back of his neck when he remembered that Jackson had already told him her name. She crossed her legs and placed a thin binder on her lap, looking at him eagerly.

"My assistant tells me that you're looking for a producer." He began.

"Oh, yes. For my boss." Camille said quickly, "I'm his representative."

"Who are you representing?"

"Dr. Logan Mitchell."

"Never heard of him."

Camille laughed, tossing her curly brown hair over one shoulder as she opened the binder in her lap. Looking down at her files, and spoke, "You must have not lived here very long, then. He's one of the best doctors in the state."

"Is he?" Carlos asked, "What kind of doctor is he?"

"An orthopedist, specializing in spinal injuries."

Carlos's eyes widened. Thoughts of Kendall Knight suddenly surged through his brain. What were the odds that he had met a man with a terrible spinal injury on the same day a representative for the best orthopedist in the state? He wasn't a very religious person, but if this wasn't some kind of divine intervention, he didn't know what was.

"You know, I have a friend with a spinal injury. You say Dr. Mitchell is the best in the state?" Carlos inquired.

Camille shook her head, "Oh, no. I'm here only to make a production deal for advertising. I'm afraid Dr. Mitchell is completely booked, and the waitlist is at least a year long."

Carlos narrowed his eyes, "Oh really? What if I said I could make a production deal happen at no cost, as long as he agrees to see my friend."

"You would put your company out of money to help your friend?" Camille asked, her eyes wide.

"Of course." He said simply.

"Well then. I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Logan had just finished setting up the final touches in his "office" when there was a knock on the door to the room. Turning around, he straightened the photographs on his desk, then deliberately disorganized the array of papers scattered across the top. He had to make sure everything was perfect. It would look more realistic if his office was somewhat messy, even if it appeared slightly unprofessional.

Crossing the small room, he pulled open the door, wincing when it creaked. His eyes brightened when he saw Camille on the other side, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.

"Mr. Garcia is here to see you." She informed him, gesturing to the lobby behind her, where Logan saw Carlos standing a few feet behind her.

"Come on in." Logan stepped back, holding the door open to give Carlos space to enter. The shorter man brushed past him, and Logan let the door close quietly behind him.

"My assistant tells me that you're willing to make a deal." Logan began, taking his place behind his desk and gesturing for Carlos to sit in one of the leather chairs on the opposite side. As Carlos sat down, he flashed Logan a confused look.

"I thought Camille was your representative." He recounted.

"Er, she is." Logan covered quickly, "She's also my assistant. We're a bit short on staff currently."

Carlos nodded and Logan let out a silent sigh of relief. He rested his hands on his desk, intertwining his fingers as he made eye contact with Carlos. "I hear that you have a friend with a spinal injury, Mr. Garcia."

"Please, call me Carlos." Carlos insisted, lifting a hand to stop Logan. "And yes. I met him only recently, but he's a good man."

"Tell me about him."

"Well, he was recently discharged from the Navy." Carlos explained, "He was stationed in Munich and served two years before he was injured in a training exercise. Now, he's paralyzed from the waist down. I-I kind of sympathize with him because… my dad had the same kind of injury. He died from it."

Logan let his face soften, adopting a concerned expression. "I'm sorry about your father. We get quite a lot of patients with similar stories. You might be surprised at how many military veterans we see with spinal problems. Luckily, the rate of recovery among them is quite high, especially with the new developments in medicine. However, I'll need to speak to your friend."

"Will you be able to help him?" Carlos asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure," Logan murmured, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I'll need to examine him, and see how bad the injury is. Also, these treatments can be fairly expensive. Will your friend be able to afford it?"

Carlos was silent for a moment, looking down at his hands. "He told me that he hasn't sought out treatment because he can't pay the medical pills."

"Ah." Logan sat back in his chair, sighing dramatically. "Then I'm not sure I can help him."

"What if I pay for it?" Carlos offered, and Logan raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was Carlos really so willing to pay for the treatment of someone he barely knew? A part of him pitied the young boy for being so naive, another part of him was impressed at how compassionate Carlos could be.

Logan held eye contact with him for several moments, letting the plan unfold in his head. He tilted his head to the side, and let out a long breath. "Let me meet him, then we can decide."

"Oh, thank you!" Carlos exclaimed, "Thank you so much!"

"I wouldn't do this for just anyone, Mr. Ga- Carlos." Logan said sternly, "And I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"If I decide he needs treatment, and you officially decide to pay for it, I want you to pay me directly." He shook his head when Carlos opened his mouth to speak, and continued. "You say you haven't known this man for long, so we have to be careful. I've dealt with people before who… _prolonged_ their condition when others offered to pay for the treatment. I want to make sure that we approach his treatment with honesty."

It was almost funny, how the irony of Logan's words went right over Carlos's head. The shorter man's eyes were sparkling hopefully, and Logan couldn't help but smirk when Carlos eagerly nodded, accepting his offer.

"Bring your friend here tomorrow morning, and I'll examine him." Logan advised, "I can't promise that he can be cured, but I'll do everything I can."

"Thank you, Dr. Mitchell." Carlos smiled, "Your kindness is very much appreciated."


End file.
